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I was frozen. I mean, my body actually felt cold, and my whole body was locked in place. I was completely overcome by fear. But nothing happened. He was just, LOOKING at me. The only thing left moving and alive was my racing heart and my paniced thoughts. This tension was killing me, and he was clearly enjoying every second of me cowering.

In truth, I had never seen a macro before. Let alone seeing one this close.

Why was I even there? How the hell did I even get there? Was it a dream? I wanted it to be a dream so badly.......................but, it was all real.

We were taught about macros... growing up, and when I was in school. But.... I Don't think they ever expected us to encounter them. I know I certainly didn't. Did.... Did they teach Macros about us in their schools? If WE call them monsters and murderers and forces to avoid....... what did they say about us?

ARE YOU GOING TO KILL ME?!

That's it. That's all I could blurt out while fighting back tears. My words certainly had an effect though, his expression from a cocky grin, changed to a deadly grimace with a cold peircing glare. Was I not supposed to speak? Of course I wasn't, so why did I? I guess I didn't know what else I was supposed to do. I jumped when he burst into laughter, like I had just told the best joke he has ever heard in his life. I didn't understand why he was laughing, but it surely didn't make me feel any better.

He stopped and told me that I was funny, and asked what my name was, which... was a little weird. I opened my mouth to tell him my name, but he had other plans and interuppted me. Apparently it wouldn't have mattered what I told him, because my name was now "Bug". He told me he's just going to call me a bug from then on. He went on explaining everything. I was now his property and I was his to do whatever he wanted. I was to obey him without question. Jason, he said his name was, was my captore.

The more and more he listed off the things I "was" to him... something burned inside me. I didn't know what to call it, but it certainly overrode my fear. When I stood up in the middle of him speaking to me, I yelled at him in rebuttle. No... NO. I said I was "not a pet, I'm no one's slave. I'm a person!" that I didn't deserve to be treated like this and to let me go.

I... I quickly realized I had made a mistake. Honestly I don't remember how I ended up inside his coiled up fist and infront of his computer screen. Hell, I might have even blacked out there for a moment. I can only tell you that my heart had never raced so fast.

Oh.. how did I know what a computer was? Well... I told you, we learned a bit about macro's in school. They had computers, telephones, cars, and... well... our teachers didn't say this, but I heard they can even control the temperature of the air and even fly as well.

He snarled at me and demanded I look at what was on the screen. I didn't think I'd ever get the image of this screen out of my head, and I still don't, but there sure was a lot of text on that screen. There were some pictures, a blue circle with the letters "CL" in it at the top left, there was a map too, but those didn't matter as much as the one big photo that was on screen. I felt so sick looking at this. It was... it was a micro. He couldn't have been more than 19 years old. He had something silver over his mouth, I didn't know what it was, and he was all tied up, his arms and legs stretched out. His clothing was absolutely filthy. The poor man's eyes are what got me the most. It was like he was looking at certain death. My chest went cold and, just like before, I blurted out something to end the silence,

WHAT AM I LOOKING AT?!

Jason chuckled again. He went on to explain that this was a posting, to PURCHASE a micro! Like we were candy bars at some shop!

He made one thing clear, that I was disposeable. Jason then began to tell me his life story, that his job barely paid him anything, and that he was always treated badly there. For a moment, I wondered if he was really expecting me to take pitty on him?

Five thousand dollars.

He kept saying that over and over and over. That was the number assosated with that poor micro on the screen. I didn't know what "dollars" were, but, he made a big deal about it. He said a bigger number could be assosiated with me.

I don't remember what else he said after that point. I think I just tuned him out as my own thoughts took over. I was asking myself things like, why me? What did I do wrong? Why did I deserve this?

It got harder to breathe, and then... well...


then the pain started.